"Has he gone completely mad!?"

"Governor Daroth, Lord Xion's clearance is one of the highest in the empire."

"I couldn't give a damn if his clearance belonged to the regent himself! The fact of the matter is that I cannot and will not put the defence fleet of this system into the hands of a hermit Sith Lord who is nearing on the brink of death."

"Sir, if I may,"

"You may not Captain Aldrige, I will simply not authorise such an action.
Are you even aware of our location in the galaxy?"

"Indeed I am sir."

"Well it seems to me something must have slipped your mind since the last time you looked at a starmap.

We are on the fringes of Imperial space! We are the first defence for the empire. It is our primary duty to defend these borders with our lives, and I will not have a Sith Lord with a death wish commandeer my fleet on a treasure hunt that will yield nothing of benefit to the empire."

"Sir, I . . . offer my apologies, I was simply relaying information from Lord Xion, I meant no disrespect."

"Of course you didn't Aldridge. I understand you were simply trying to bring this matter to my attention.
As my second in command, it is your job after all.

I'm just tired of that old rotting corpse that gets all the perks of a Grand Moff while barking orders from the infirmary at us.

We protect this space, and we get treated with nothing more than a mild neglect."

"Sir, what if this time he is right about Yinchorr? What if there are resources still left over from Lord Maim's rule?"

"Whatever remnants of the Crimson Empire were left had been wiped out by us long ago, Yinchorr is nothing but sand and dust now.

I have heard Xion, his words are nothing but insane riddles and doublespeak. I'd put no faith in his words if I were you."

Captain Aldridge sighed before turning to the door.

"I apologise captain, but as long as I am commander of this system, I will not relinquish my command to him."

"Then perhaps I will."

Aldridge outstretched his hand toward the Governor, and as he did so, Daroth clutched his chest and collapsed to the floor in agony.

"W . . .why?" groaned the Governor as he lay rigid, pain etched into his features.

"You short-sighted fool. You have no vision beyond the borders of this Empire.
And Empire which you blindly follow, but has grown so weak it is now a shadow of its former self. Lord Xion vision is more True to the Empire than Kaine's or Hyfe's ever was, and it shall be realised!

If you will not give Lord Xion this fleet, then I will take it for him.

I am in command now, Governor Daroth."

"The Darkforce unites us," spoke a crimson clad warrior in full ceremonial Royal Guardsmen armor. "The Darkforce keeps us apart."

From upon a raised dais the soldier threw his fist into the air as a chorus of affirmations flooded from the assembly of similarly dressed ex-Patriots of an empire lost.

"We are together in isolation," chanted numerous Royal Guardsmen, also throwing high their fists and giving up a might roar.

With a subtle change of posture the Sovereign Protector, foremost among the rank of the Imperial Royal Guard, called a firm silence across the room. As his arms vanished under a waving crimson cape each Guardsmen in turn fell to his knees, bowed in reverence before their leader.

Dozens of helmets, their sleek black lenses hiding the eyes of those men behind their masks, locked attentively upon the speaker. The sovereign leader nodded approvingly and started into a speech all too familiar. For the hundredth time he stood before his deadly warrior force and spoke the words that would give them hope enough to cling on another month or more...

"The Empire we served is gone and gone with it, the glory of the Dark Side. What stands now is but and empty empirical shell, a broken husk."

Ambient light seemed to fade from the opulent chamber, dubbed the Temple by the remains of the Imperial Guard. What little light remained within the high-walled dome focused around the speaker like pale moonlight.

"Dark Lord Sidious, the Emperor Palpatine created us of his own grand dream. He alone achieved the single greatest goal of the Sith and in his efforts created a force so deadly and so powerful that none would question. The Emperor crafted our unity from the tatters of weak and shattered infantry, a royal dispatch whose name has faded with time leaving only our iron fist!"

All light abruptly vanished from the Temple, a heavy darkness falling across the assembly.

"Sidious died, despite our efforts. We were unable to save him, but... we were not left long."

"For into the void came a new presence. A new power that could give us aim and direction. After debate and confusion, after internal strife... I speak of Kir Kanos and Connor Jax... the Dark Lord Maim came into our midst."

"While some of our tradition fell to the charms of the continuing empire... You and I stood strong and keep the faith of our mandate. The Dark Lord Maim gave us direction and purpose."

"And he too is gone. What I demand of you is this; where will you stand when the return is neigh?"

Illumination bathed the temple abruptly. Bright white light flashed through the chamber. As the glow abated the whole of the true Royal Guard stood at attention with weapons drawn.

And they chanted, "We will stand ready!"

***

Korad hated his post. He hated it with all of his passion but he also understood that no other Guardsmen could do the duty that was his own. Like all of his crimson brothers he knew the hardship that was their life intimately and accepted his burden willingly. He did not have to enjoy it, however.

The rain only made things worse. It soaked his gear and weighed down his armor. Even in light rigging the sheer volume of water and mud slowed him down considerably. Muck gathered in clumps around his boots and gloves while he struggled up the dangerous face of Mount Overlook.

"Curse this," muttered Korad when his boot slipped for the tenth time. "Just another two..."

Not high above he glimpsed his goal. A squat durasteel shack sat neatly atop the perilous climb. The shack served as the single point of contact for the few functional satellites that still whipped madly around the planet. It was their only contact with the galaxy and, coincidentally, their only means of watching the skies above Yinchorr.

Not that they had any reason to fear attack or discovery. Yinchorr had been a mud and dirt planet even before the arrival of the Guard. Now, this far forgotten by time and stranded without hyperspace capability, Yinchorr was not only home to the Royal Guard, but prison too.

Korad smiled inwardly at the end of his climb and, shoving the heavy doors open, stalked into the relative comfort of the shack. A myriad of bleeps and blips greeted him as he pulled the doors shut behind himself.

Peeling away the layers of his saturated uniform Korad found himself greeted with something he would never have expected.

Urgently signaling for his attention, a single display monitored the movements of what appeared to be a cruiser in high orbit above Yinchorr.

"Fuck me," snarled Korad, keying open his communicator.

"KayAreOhDee. Status; Initiative Seven. We have visitors. Data relay, active!"

For once, things were looking up.

***

The buzz of battle flew like an angry wasp through the halls. Warriors in red and black moved this way and that with fluid movements, the result of endless training, making ready for the inevitable. The Sovereign Protector had planned for just such an occasion.
When first stranded on Yinchorr the Sovereign had known that their biggest obstacle would be to overcome their isolation. From the moment that technicians had taken apart the last hyper drive in order to maintain the running capacity of the base he had accepted the responsibility. The crimson brotherhood would have to reduce themselves to pirates and take, by force if need by, whatever ship first stumbled upon them.

Lost beyond the inner rim, beyond the reach of the Hydian Way, Yinchorr had once made an excellent staging ground for the Empire's fleet. But now, without official garrison or apparent worth, the planet was like so many others... flung between the stars.

Probability for discovery remained low, the Sovereign knew, but he had to be prepared.

He moved like his namesake, like Silk, through the throngs of Guardsmen. He reveled in their silent determination and the grim resolve that marked those 'the best'. "Today, we will break free."

None of the soldiers responded visibly but through the force Protector Silk could feel their strength grow. Approvingly, he sent himself out into the Darkforce and touched the minds of his numerous warriors. Through the warren-like structure of the Temple and the network of caves that ran well beyond the perimeter of their home he could feel his army moving.

A sinister smile touched his lips.

"Liege," spoke one of his brothers, bowing as Silk stepped calmly into what served as the tactical command center and base of operations. "We have confirmation."

Silk nodded in the slightest of fashion, "Extrapolate."

"Transponders mark the intruder as an Imperial Cruiser with escort. Judging by speed and trajectory, they know where we are. Landing parties will come in here, and here."

A gloved hand tapped out points on an overlay map. The motion was needless, however; as Dioan Silk himself had chosen this position for its attack options. Furious cliffs and jutting ridges of bedrock made landing anything larger then a small freighter impossible anywhere within three hundred kilometers of the base. Layers of moving sand and mud caused a constant shifting the area's topography, father frustrating landings. Walkers and hover tanks would have similar problems in the rough terrain, only specialized equipment could even attempt to navigate the local terrain (such as the spider walker’s already in positions around the ridge). Even drop-troops would be wary attempting to make any sort of safe impact with the fluctuating density of the soil and rock.

The only safe landing sites, aside from their own hidden bay, were two moderately sized plateau's located ten klicks north and south of the base. A daring pilot could, at best, put down a keel of perhaps one hundred meters in these two spots. Depending on rigging, the first wave his Guards could expect would number no more then five hundred.

Silk and his brotherhood numbered almost that much itself and could easily dispatch a dozen regular-army stormtroopers each. The odds, for now, remained very heavily in the Guard's favor.

"Keep me appraised," ordered the Sovereign Protector, turning on a heel and departing the command area. "I want to know when the first wave is inbound."

No confirmation was spoken in reply; within the brotherhood... it was unnecessary.

Immediately out of the well appointed room two similarly clad Guardsmen, though equipped with light sabers rather then the traditional pike, feel into flanking positions behind Silk.

"You agree then," said Silk evenly. It was not a question.

"We do," they spoke in unison.

"It feels familiar. Ready my chamber. I will discover this... force."

They bowed, the soldiers at his sides, and departed without fuss.

Silk clicked his tongue once, his communicator clicked open in response. "Deploy the walkers and put our birds up. Stay within the shadow of the ridges and mountains and await my reply."

***

I can sense you; spoke the ethereal version of Dioan Silk into the force. You are familiar to me.

Strength welled up through the projected and corporeal aspects of the Sovereign Projector. One floated high in the space between stars, the network of the force. The other kneeled within a chamber of deep onyx black with walls that rose beyond sight into the darkness above.

You are nothing, came the reply. You are Dioan Silk, and you are nothing.

Pain shot through his body. Silk recoiled in response.

You cannot hurt me, screamed the silent voice of Dioan Silk but he didn't believe it. I am within the chamber of my Lord. You have not the strength!

The Sovereign Protector knew his words were in vain.

A face appeared to him in the darkness, a horrible face. A face Dioan Silk could not mistake.

Darth Xion, exclaimed Protector Silk before closing himself away from the force.

Sweating, he became intimately aware of his corporeal self again. In a second he was up and sprinting out of the chamber.

He had prepared... but would it be enough?

(delete!)

When the battle was over and all weapons exhausted the sand of Yinchorr had been dyed red with the blood of Stormtrooper and Guardsmen alike. The smoke of spent rounds hung heavily in the air alongside the stink of inozied rock and flesh. Over the bodies spread lifeless on the sand strode a figure in sweeping red robes, his expression hidden behind the black and red helmet of the Sovereign Protector. He held in his hand a dual-bladed sword dripping with the blood of a dozen troopers.

"You have done this," spoke the disembodied voice of Darth Xion.

In the fading light and the blowing smoke he imagined the shape of a hunchbacked old man moving with the wind. To it he roared, "You are no Dark Lord. I know Sith and you are not it."

Against a back lit sky the figure seemed to hesitate.

The lone Guardsmen tore off his helmet, casting it aside he looked upon the ghostly avatar with his own naked eyes. Though the construct appeared more tangible now he could see a vague blur around the edges. Lord Maim, the true Dark Lord, had often appeared in this fashion. As the Hand of his Lord, the Sovereign Protector had been well trained in the Force. The skills he had been taught to preserve the life of his master now served the Guardsmen well.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

"Who are you?" Replied the apparition.

"I am Dioan Silk!" The Sovereign Protector found himself yelling, spittle escaping his lips. An anger quite unlike anything he had felt before boiled up inside him unrestrained. "I am the Sovereign Protector to the Dark Lord of the Sith!"

He was losing control. Silk found himself screaming at the wind, screaming at ghosts. With a heavy hand he drove the blade of his weapon through his tormentor. To his shock and surprise the weapon found purchase. They spray of blood, warm against his cheeks, washed him in a sudden clarity.

There, with Silks weapon buried deep in his chest, was figure dressed not unlike Dioan Silk himself. In his fury he had killed one of his brothers in arms, and while not unusual by any means, this amounted to nothing more then murder. His victim was unarmed.

"You killed them all. Everyone is dead."

"Curse you, specter. Who are you that you haunt me?"

The figure spoke half the truth. Everyone was dead, Guardsmen and Stormtrooper alike. Everyone was dead except for Dioan Silk. The invaders had underestimated the tenacity of their foes while the defenders faced an impossible struggle.

Dioan Silk looked over the descimation with mixed emotions.

"You are slave trained, broken. It is time for you to go beyond what he taught you."

In the blood of his brothers Silk saw the face of his tormentor grinning. What force was this?

"Do not speak of Lord Maim, beast. You know nothing. I know the Dark Side."

"And yet you are abandoned not once, but twice, by the Master you follow. You still await his return." The face mocked him.

"You overstep yourself creature." With a stomp of his boot Silk splattered the puddle of crimson fluid but his foot did not stop.

Beneath his foot the ground gave way. Dioan Silk tumbled through the darkness in a downpour of blood. He could see nothing for the darkness save for a single pinpoint of light slowly tumbling away. A sudden impact, painful and consuming, drove the air from his lungs. Dioan Silk found himself sinking into a lake of foul tasting liquid. The tang of iron made him think of blood as Silk drew in huge lung fulls of the stuff. He was fighting for breath, fighting for the surface. From down below came hands, cold dead hands, grasping at his ankles and pulling him down.

The voice returned.

"You can save yourself from this pathetic fate. You can save yourself from the shadow of others."

Darkness overcame him.

He awoke, some hours later, to the sound of pouring rain. Cold and wet, he began to shiver immediately. He lay prone with his face towards the sky. Scattered across the field of battle he could see the corpses of his men mixed with the broken and bloodied bits of Stormtroopers. Struggling to sit he was met with an intense pain in his left thigh. A broken bit of sword was wedged there, deep.

Voices echoed in the distance. Through swollen eyes he could see moment.

He fought to stay conscious but even the Force could not resist the needs of his tortured body. Shapes in red cloaks moved towards him alongside the white outline of a Stormtrooper. Someone had lived at least.

"We have the battle," spoke one of the Royal Guardsmen as he kneeled beside his fallen brother. "They have broken and submitted. This one brings you a message."

Dioan Silk turned his bruised face towards the Stormtrooper.

"Darth Xion sends regards," spoke the Stormtrooper. "You have won the day. We are yours to command. What would you have us do, Lord Silk?"

The title gave him pause and for a moment Silk did not respond. He could remember nothing of the battle and he dared not share his dream with the others. Perhaps he had won his battle also, perhaps...

Silk reached for the trooper who in turn moved to assist his new commander. Opening himself to the Dark Side he began to syphon the energy of his prisoner. Visibly pained by this, the trooper struggled to escape his grip. With each moment Silk grew stronger while the officer grew weaker. The pain in his leg seemed to fade, his victim falling to its knees.

"I would have you die." Dioan Silk spoke while plunging his dagger into the Stormtroopers helmet.

"Kill the rest and keep no more then we need to get their ship into orbit. We are leaving this rock." He commanded the Guardsmen with a resolute tone. Standing, despite the pain in his leg and the still running blood, Lord Silk looked back towards the Temple. "Take everything we need and blow it up. By the Sith I swear never to return here."

They bowed and departed leaving Dioan Silk to look upon the ridges of Yinchorr for the last time.

~thread closed~